


ain’t no sunshine

by butmomilovemyboys



Series: when you lose something  you can’t replace; when you love someone, but it goes to waste [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Precious Peter Parker, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Singing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-27 21:59:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18747925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butmomilovemyboys/pseuds/butmomilovemyboys
Summary: “Spidey! Where you at?” It’s Sam Wilson’s voice calling for him. He wants to shout for him, to alert him that he was here, but all that came out were gurgles of blood and saliva. He was aching all over, the pain flowing through him in waves.Any second, he would be dead.“Parker!” The voice was closer. He was going to be okay. Okay.“Oh, God, Parker--” Sam’s voice above him sounded fearful as his hands hover over his chest. “Come on, kid, stay with me--”





	ain’t no sunshine

**Author's Note:**

> i love sam wilson guys and the new spiderman trailer made me #emo so enjoy this

“I wasn’t expecting Spider-Man to be so...baby faced.”

Peter was losing, and he was losing bad.

It was an easier mission than normal. He’s been through some rough battles before. 

But even though it was about a year after the Aftermath, and he had gone on many Avengers missions after, he was still getting used to being without Tony Stark. 

Rhodey always had his back, Strange always was there when he was stuck, Sam Wilson always knew just what to say, but none of them were  _ Tony.  _

They didn’t have his wording, his intellect. They didn’t have the way  _ he  _ knew Peter, could tell his little mannerisms and knew just when he was in trouble. 

So now, Peter laid pinned to the ground, gritting his teeth as the resurfaced Hydra member mocked him. He had short circuited his Iron Spider suit, revealing Peter’s pale and sweaty face. 

“Get.  _ Off.” _ Peter gritted his teeth even harder, as he attempted to free himself. But the man just pushed harder. 

“A fighter, are we?” A knee to his chest. A punch. Another punch. There’s a broken nose, for sure. 

There was no way to call for backup with his suit dead. The others were far off, attempting to blow up the Hydra base. And Peter? Peter was keeping watch. 

And then, just then, the explosion. 

The noise was loud, louder for Peter, and loud enough that the member stayed still just a moment. Peter saw his chance. 

He kicked the man in the gut, using his knees to dig into his ribs and flip him over. Peter did this often. It was his best tactic in these situations, the best way to get the upper hand. 

But something felt off. His senses pricked at the back of his neck; his brain buzzing slightly. 

And that’s when a knife gets driven into his chest. 

Peter sputtered, looking down at his enemy, who was grinning like a madman beneath him. 

Peter was kicked off, watching as his blood mixed into the dirt. 

“Where’s your hero now?” 

And suddenly, the knife is ripped out. Peter screams. 

“What-What the  _ fuck?”  _ Peter scolded. 

The Hydra man stood up slowly. “Spider-Man has been compromised.” He spoke into his headset. 

_ “So have we. Retreat.”  _ The voice on the other end replied. 

“Guess our little spider got washed out by the rain.”

Suddenly, he disappears into the shadows of the night, leaving Peter alone. Alone. Alone. Alone. 

 

The stars look a bit different when you’re dying. They’re a bit brighter, a bit more coherent. Not so far away. 

There’s blood in his mouth; he can feel it coat his tongue and teeth. 

He placed a shaky, limp hand to his wound. He’s bleeding out. He’ll lose enough blood and he’ll pass out and wake up and--

And Tony will be there. He’ll see Tony, he’ll hug him and wherever they are, they can create in Tony’s lab and watch movies and eat pizza…

_ May. Ned. MJ. Happy. Pepper. _

_ Morgan.  _

“Please--” he blurted, blood dripping down his chin. “Don’t take me, n-not yet.” 

He’s speaking to no one. No one that wants to hear him, at least. 

There’s faint music playing in the back of his mind, old songs that Ben or Tony or his mother liked. He wants to give in to the music, to the black and warmth and nothingness. But he thinks of his family and of his team, and he can’t. He can’t leave them. Not after those lost. This one would hurt them bad. 

“Spidey! Where you at?” It’s Sam Wilson’s voice calling for him. He wants to shout for him, to alert him that he was here, but all that came out were gurgles of blood and saliva. He was aching all over, the pain flowing through him in waves. 

Any second, he would be dead. 

“Parker!” The voice was closer. He was going to be okay. Okay. 

“Oh, God, Parker--” Sam’s voice above him sounded fearful as his hands hover over his chest. “Come on, kid, stay with me--” 

He feels himself get picked up, and any other time he’d be embarrassed. But at the moment, he felt a little bit lighter, safer, and content. Sam slipped his arm under Peter’s armpit, keeping him up right against him. A cool hand pressed on his own against the wound. 

“Jesus, Parker, you’re lighter than little Miss Stark,” Sam chided. 

“Spider power...real strong...real light. Something like that,” Peter responded drowsily. 

Sam chuckled tightly. “Just stay awake, ‘kay?” There’s moments that pass, but for Peter it’s hours. Until Sam yells, “Strange! Get us home, the kid’s looking a little too pale for my liking.” 

“Is he alright?” Strange asked, a slight frantic tone to his words. 

“No.” A pause. “Like, if we don’t leave now, Pepper might literally kill us.” 

“Is he coherent at all?” Rhodey chimed in over the coms, sounding like he was trying not to keep the others calm. 

“Um…” Wilson snapped his fingers in Peter’s face. Peter fought back a flinch, but eventually winced and groaned. Sam looked somewhat satisfied. “More or less?” 

Peter can see Strange appear in his peripheral vision, but it’s accompanied by white spots. The music in his brain gets a bit louder. It’s nothing him can make out; mixes of lyrics and melodies he can’t place. But they get a bit clearer, and clearer, and-  

A flash of orange and he’s back on the quinjet. 

“Are you humming there, Queens?” Sam sounded a bit amused.

Peter was brought back, feeling the vibrations in his mouth stop. 

“Was’n’ tryin’ to.” Peter slurred. Everything hurt. Blood was everywhere. When Tony died, there was no blood. There was power in Tony, too much and it coarsed through him, and it probably hurt. But there was no blood. That’s all Peter could see. 

_ “ _ _ Ain't no sunshine when she's gone,”  _ Sam sang.  _ “It’s not warm when she’s away.”  _

The singing catches Peter ears, making his own music fade into the background. 

“What’re you doin’?” Sam lowered Peter on to a bunk, places bandages against the hole. 

“Singing. Keeping you awake.” Something in Sam’s face cracks for half a second. “Always worked with Cap--Steve. The man got caught into too much trouble.” 

Peter offers a sloppy, sad smile. “You ‘an keep goin’.”

_ “Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone, and she’s always gone too long…”  _ Sam’s singing is doing the opposite of keeping him awake, but there’s no strength in Peter to stop him.  _ “Anytime she goes away.”  _

He’s got too much to live for to give up now. He doesn’t want to leave them all like Tony did, 

“Hey, hey, Sam?” Peter said suddenly, grabbing the other man’s arm.

Sam’s singing faded as he cautiously looked between Peter eyes and his bloodied hand. “What is it?” 

There’s rustling as the quinjet starts moving. Peter can hear snippets of Dr. Strange and Rhodey’s conversation,  _ He’s losing too much blood  _ and  _ Pepper will kill us  _ and  _ Poor kid has been through enough,  _ and it makes him feel worse than before.

He turned his thoughts back to Sam. “I can’t die.”

It come out in a small sob, cracked in all different pieces. Sam gave him a look of sympathy and guilt. 

“Oh, Kid,” Sam started. “We’re not letting that happening.” 

He added a new bandage as he slowly pushed Peter back down onto the bunk. The blood was slowing, there was less of it escaping him, and for some reason, that alarmed Sam. 

“Fuck.” Sam placed a cool hand on Peter’s sweaty forehead.  _ “Fuck.”  _

Peter didn’t want to panic--if he knew anything, it would make his situation worse. But the tone of Sam’s voice as he pressed towels into Peter’s wound scared him. 

“Rhodes, you better step on it!” Sam shouted to the pit. 

“I’m going as fast as I can, Sam! Don’t let him fall asleep.” Rhodey shouted back. 

Sam looked afraid, an emotion that he didn’t normally show. 

“Sam?” Peter squeaked. 

Sam turned back to him, hesitantly pushing back Peter’s hair from his sweaty face. “You’re okay, alright? You have to promise to stay awake.” 

“Or Pepper and May... will kill you.” Peter finished sleepily. 

Sam gave him a small smile. “Exactly. So you keep those eyes open, okay Spidey?” 

Peter gave him a nod, trying to place eyesight on one thing. “I don’t want to die. Um, again.” 

Things were getting too fuzzy. The pain was fading into static. The music came back slowly, rising in volume as the seconds passed.  

“You’re not, alright? You’ve got a lot of people to live for.” Sam spoke in a soft tone. 

“Morgan,” Peter breathed. 

Sam agreed. “That’s right. She’s counting on her brother.” 

Brother. Peter smiled. “Yeah. Gotta...do it for her.” 

And then Peter’s head drooped. Sam’s hands grabbed his face and shook it sharply. 

“Hey, hey, none of that, Parker!  _ Rhodes!”  _ Sam yelled. “Kid, I know it’s easier to fall asleep, but you  _ can’t.”  _

_ Stay awake. Stay awake. Stay awake.  _

“You hear me?” Sam continued. “I know you can. You’re stronger than all of us, kid. You’ve got heart that some don’t.” 

The music was drowning him. He was breathing in it. It was cold. And bloody, and--

_ “Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone. It’s not warm when she’s away.”  _

Sam wants him to hang on. The singing brings him closer to Sam and farther from the music. 

“Sam…” he whispered. 

“Right here. Just listening to me. Were almost home.” He assured.  _ “Wonder this time where’s she gone. Wonder if she’s gone to stay. Ain’t no sunshine when she’s gone, and this house just ain’t no home, anytime she goes away.”  _

“Don’t wanna...I  _ don’t.”  _

He can’t, he really can’t, keep holding on. 

“Please, Peter--” 

There’s desperation in Sam’s voice. 

Peter feels them start to land, but Sam’s voice fades into the music. 

~

There’s a beeping. A slow, steady, even beeping. No music. Just beeping. And breathing. His chest hurts. It’s duller, but it’s there. He doesn’t have the strength to open his eyes just yet, but there’s a pressure on his side. And breathing that isn’t his own. 

Slowly, he cracks his eyes, grateful to find the lights dim. From his bed in the medbay, he realized, he could see that the clock read 11:56pm. 

Morgan was curled into his side, her brown locks draped across his chest, which while covered by the hospital gown, was wrapped in bandages. 

“Are you awake?” She whispers sweetly. 

Peter’s voice feels unused. “Sure are. Should you be?” 

There’s a small giggle and then, “No.” 

“Then how’d you get here?” 

“Uncle Happy let me in. Wasn’t hard.” She said. 

“It’s never been very hard.” He teased. A wave of pain crashed through him, and he tried not to show he. He guessed he did a bad job because Morgan picked her head up to look at him.

“You were hurt real bad. Mommy and Auntie May said so.” She looked a bit frightened, a bit sympathetic, a bit angry, and exactly like her father. 

Peter lifted a lazy hand to stoke the hair out of her face. “I’m alright now, Morg.” 

She shook her head. “You slept too long. And you were all white. I could see your face bones.” She poked her finger at Peter’s cheek. 

“Sorry if I scared you. I didn’t want this to happen.” Peter said shamefully. 

Morgan moved up closer, laying her head on Peter’s shoulder. “That’s okay, Pete. It was Uncle Sam and Rhodey that were really upset. Mr.Strange saved you.” 

“Um, Strange might have closed your chest up, but  _ I’m  _ the one who carried your bleeding ass here.” A new voice arrived. Sam. He was dressed in the same clothes Peter had seen him wear the last time he saw him, the ones under his Captain America suit. 

“Hey, Wilson,” Peter smiled. 

Sam gave a smile back. “Hey there, Spidey.” 

Peter’s face faltered as he rubbed Morgan’s back. “I fell asleep.” 

“Yeah,” said Sam. “You did.” He looked a little put out. 

“At least I got to hear you sing.” Peter joked. Sam rolled his eyes playfully. “How long have I been out?” 

“Two days!” Morgan chimed in.

Sam chuckled from the doorway. “She’s right.  _ And  _ she should be in bed.”

Morgan pouted. “But Uncle Sam--!” 

“Ah-ah, no buts. Your mom said so.” Sam gave her a parental look. “Give Petey here a kiss goodnight, and maybe you can have a cookie.”

She perked up and nodded, before giving Peter a light kiss on the cheek. “Goodnight Peter!”

“Goodnight, Morg.” Peter replied. 

She jumped off the bed and ran passed Sam, who ruffled her hair as she did. 

“How you feeling, kid?” Sam asked when she was gone down the hallway. 

Peter sighed. “Sore.” 

Sam gave him a light laugh. “Yeah, getting stabbed will do that to you.” 

“Sorry. About. All that.” Peter said, avoiding eye contact. 

“Don’t sweat it, Queens. I’m just glad you’re alright.” Sam said sincerely. 

“I thought I was a goner for sure.”

“Not gonna lie, so did we.” Sam admitted. He pulled up a chair and sat down next to Peter. “But you pulled through. Strange did a good job.” 

“Remind me to thank him.” Peter paused. “And thank you.” 

Sam smiled. “No problem, Parker. Just stay out of trouble. That’s all we’re asking.” 

Peter smirked. “We’ll see.”


End file.
